Ferris Wheel
by Mikeala-and-Whitney
Summary: It seemed her life had always been a ferris wheel, it had it's ups and downs, and then no matter how long she ran, she always seemed to be going in a circle. And he was always there, running the ride, keeping her going.
1. Pages at the Carnival

**{A/N: I own none of Heroes, or anything related to it; I just have my oc here, Arlae :D Hope you enjoy, reviews are gladly welcomed*}**

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A cross-word puzzle book rattled with the thunder in the sky. Partially gloved hands held the papers stuck together in both hands, and then a pencil was seen scribbling into the tiny boxes that were soon filled with words. A young woman sat on a chair, her feet up on the legs of the chair somehow. Her lips half-way open as if wanting to say something but didn't, a bored expression all over her face as she titled her head to the side. Her shoulder-length hair in mid-air as it skimmed on by over her shoulders. Her hair looked as if she hadn't run a comb or brush through it in days, but it smelled as if newly washed and dried, with perfumes and orange peach shampoo too.

Her painted thumb nail raked over the side of the wooden pencil as she sighed, tossing the flimsy papered book onto the table beside her. With a soft sigh she turned around, her eye-lids drooped as she stretched; soft crick-crack noises were heard as a squeak of joy was heard slipping from her lips. A breeze went through and her hair went in front of her face like a veil, a deep breath was taken in as she looked to the side once it wasn't as windy.

Edgar. She sighed softly again and slid from the chair, her belt nearly catching the cheap cover of the chair, scratching it but not really. She smiled gently as she could see the fast-footed man was now standing near by, chatting away with another of the Carnival's citizens. She could hear the jiggle of change in her pocket; she had to give that back to Samuel at some point too. She didn't steal it but the thought of going over to the ring-leader's trailer just made it hard to swallow for some reason. Arlae looked as if she were just grounded for something, that look of disappointment and frustration nearly showing now. She brushed her hair back, her fingers brushing against her earring, making it swing back and forth gently for a moment or two then go back to getting slightly stuck in a strand of her hair again. She turned around only to hear a familiar voice speak up, a shadow near a trailer at the carnival.

"**Where you heading, Arlae?"** The ringer-leader of the carnival asked her, his smile nearly haunting, that friendly expression that seemed to have a voice in the back of one's head, a conscience, telling you it was fake, a mask but that person was to busy slowly sinking into that friendly generosity anyway **"Isn't it past your bed-time?"** He chuckled softly, that grin only bigger, showing his nearly perfect teeth, straight across in-between his lips. He wore a light blue shirt, with casual pants, his nails painted black just like nearly all the time now. A jacket covered his shirt, and loomed over his shoulders. His two rings locked onto his thumb as he put back on his purple square glasses. She could hear the carnie music near by, that sound of the carasel and roller-coasters.

His stare seemed to send a zap down her spine but she made a small noise of an almost groan, like being caught sneaking into the house long past curfew. She suddenly felt her throat dry, and yet she stood confident, at least it appeared that way. Arlae tucked part of her hair behind her right ear, not even sighing in frustration as her earring got caught in her hair again. Her eyes wouldn't meet his, as his stare was intimidating and kind, both combined seemed not to make much sense to her. He tilted his head to the side as if studying her now, watching her kindly even though it wasn't meant to be that way. His smile dulled only slightly, as his lips were pressed into a curved line. Her mascara was starting to really aggravate her; she shouldn't have applied so much. Arlae was about to mentally scold herself until she heard a soft chuckle. Why did he have to chuckle like that? Really? Was it that necessary? His stare seemed fake though, while it was covered with kindness and generosity when it was really malicious underneath, but that could have just been her imagination at work too.

"**I was just heading back to my trailer."** She thought she had said it out-loud, until she realized she whispered it as he was nodding. Samuel walked over towards her, placing his hands on her cheeks then onto her shoulders. To be honest she thought he looked like he did usually at Lydia, at Edgar, at all his carnival family. The carnie music seemed to get louder in her ears; his words seemed to be even louder though, they blended much better together. Arlae wondered how people that were around weren't even noticing this but she nodded **"I'm fine."** Her words were whispered again

"**Are you?"** He asked in a concern tone. She didn't whether that was fake too or not. Her jacket scratched oddly enough against his as he seemed to get even closer. She took a step back cautiously, but smiled.

"**Of course."** Her breath was shaky. Usually she had more of a standing her ground attitude, more confident but lately old memories seemed to come into mind more and more throughout the days at the carnival. Her eyes glanced to the side as she could see the Sullivan brothers' logo on a crew-member's truck. Then her eyes were back on Samuel's as she felt his thumb that had his two silver rings on it brushing against her cheek, even though it scraped against her jaw-line before that without her really noticing. Had she zoned out so easily then? He did this to Lydia though, to Edgar. His two special friends, if they could even be called that now.

"_**Remember, the carnival is your family now." **_Joseph had told her once.

This reminded her of how she was brought into the carnival in the first place, of how Samuel had been there right when she turned back around, when she was looking for her mom. He had been there for her. He told her the carnival was going to take care of her, that they wouldn't leave her like her mom did. That's what he told her but Joseph had been even more welcoming. But he seemed to have an expectation of her and Samuel's new-found friendship, as if just waiting for Samuel to ruin everything, so he could be there to fix it all, put a bandage on it and make it all better.

"**You're not unhappy with me?"** She looked at him as if not expecting that, her lips parted but no words came out. Unhappy with him? She didn't understand and the roller-coaster rider's screams of excitement weren't really helping her at all. The Ferris wheel turned around and around, the lights flickering off of things; it was starting to bother her eyes. His expression grew more concern, a genuine expression on his face or at least it appeared that way **"With the carnival?" **

"**No, of course not."** Her eyes wouldn't meet his again but she knew he nodded. She smiled, nodding **"I'm just fine, really it's alright." **She hugged them quickly, her expression faltered then went back into place as she looked at him again, and he smiled back. Arlae turned around; her expression frazzled again as she walked towards her trailer, feeling Samuel's eyes on her for a few moments then she opened the door to the rectangle trailer and knew Edgar was looking. With a small noise of the door closing behind her, she turned to shut the curtains in front of the screen-door. She half expected to see Samuel there, the ringer-leader lurking but instead there wasn't anyone really, not even Edgar.

She sighed softly, closing the flimsy curtains and turned around. Why was Samuel treating her like she was Lydia now? But then he seemed to act kindly to most of the carnival's citizens. She tugged at her hair and finally sighed in frustration as she started to pick her earring out from her tangled hair now. Oddly she felt pressure on her shoulders, as if hands were there again and she shrugged in discomfort. Samuel always had to be putting a hand on her shoulder or smiling whenever she was around. Maybe he was just a hands-on kind of ring-leader. She laughed softly, as she slipped off her jacket. It fell onto her wrinkled blanket covered bed.

Arlae fell onto the bed then with another sigh of relaxation as she grabbed a pillow, hugging it as she laid there for a few moments. Her job at the carnival was usually giving out prizes at one of the prize-games booths, and she'd smile and give away a big prize or a slinky, whatever they won really. She just did that every so often, but mostly she was just around the back-stage carnival living place. Her expression didn't show a smile, but an almost boredom was she turned to lie on her side, still holding the pillow in her arms. She brushed back her hair from her face, staring at nothing in particular now.

Her nose twitched slightly as she could still smell that cheap cologne Samuel was wearing. It had seemed as if someone had been smoking too but she wasn't sure, that's just what she seemed to inhale from the fabric of his jacket when she hugged him. That one particular question though asked, was running through in her thoughts now. Was she loyal to the carnival? Better yet. Was she loyal to Samuel? She wasn't with him in a relationship, not sexually or even platonically too, at least not lately. She was just friends, or could she even call it that now? Samuel seemed more interested on finding out who would be in the carnival family soon. Now it just seemed to be all about Samuel, didn't it? She sighed softly, yelling in frustration only to hear a knocking at her screen-door. She leaned back against a pillow; her eye-lids slightly drooped as she looked at the shut fabric over the screen-door.

"**Are you alright, Arlae?"** Edgar's voice was heard, and she smiled gently only to frown a moment later, shrugging as she lay there, as if he could see her through the door and fabric or something.

"**I'm fine." **How many times had she said that tonight?

"**You didn't look all that fine earlier."** She sat up then on the bed, her mascara-smeared eye-lashes brushed against her cheeks for a moment then she looked back at the front door instead.

"**And when did you become my father, Edgar?"** She asked in that half-amused voice, almost sarcastic as she heard a soft sigh. The brunette pulled her legs up to her chest again, placing one arm across her knees as she glanced to the side, waiting for him to leave again. He'd ask if she was alright but wouldn't stay long at her trailer front door.

"**When did you start picking Samuel over friendship?"** He asked, usually he would have said the carnival over friendship but instead he spoke differently. Yet there were a lot of things that were referred to as usually. A few steps and she knew he was walking away from her trailer now. A frown was over her lips now, shrugging as she got up from her bed, stretching again. He was wrong. He had to be. She wasn't going to let Edgar get to her, not now.

"**I'm not with Samuel."** She whispered softly, glancing back as she looked back at the door-way **"I'm not with him, Edgar!"** She yelled only some-what loudly, not seeming to care if someone had heard her but ran a hand through her hair in frustration again. Edgar shouldn't have pried like that; it wasn't any of his business anyway. Shrugging back on her jacket she looked back at the front door. Arlae took a step back as she wobbled slightly, placing a hand on her forehead, her eye-lids shutting only to re-opened a moment later.

"**Ow."** She whispered, as a head-ache wasn't really what she needed. Brushing back her hair she looked back at the door-way **"Edgar, why do you have to be right sometimes?"** She asked softly as she could feel strongly on emotions running high in the carnival now, all around in her now large carnie family. See, if Peter had been here at the carnival with her, he would have been able to give her advice.


	2. Tuning Distractions

The breakfast table was covered in a light grey or was that tacky greenish purple instead, she wasn't sure but it was a table cloth. Arlae knew at least that much about the table now. She stared at the table-cloth as if it were the most important thing in the whole carnival at the moment, scratching her nail-polish painted thumb nail against the wood as the interesting table cloth didn't cover all the way across the table for some reason then. Her eye-lids drooped slightly as if she were studying for her driver's license or something. With a big intake of a deep breath through her nose, she sighed and gave up on trying to make a scratch on the nearly shiny wooden table. A breeze went on by, less than windy from the previous nights though. It had been stormy weather, lightning battling in the sky with thunder, and rain poured for a few hours or so. But that was after she had gone back into her trailer later then.

"**Omelet or cereal?"** Edgar asked as he leaned over the table slightly, holding out a cereal box towards her. Arlae looked up; her vision frazzled a moment with flash-backs as she thought she saw Peter then Edgar. A flashback? She couldn't really tell anymore. He looked at her confused then as her expression was just as confused **"You okay?" **He tried to sound concern somehow, and eyed her in slight worry now. She had been distracted by a lot lately, not really listening to when someone talked, especially Samuel when he talked to the whole family. She just looked around as if seeing through it, thinking about something completely different during that.

"**What?" **She gave a distant expression, obviously not paying that much attention to the carnival's knife thrower now. Her hair more wavy now, over her ears, sure to get tangled with her earrings again as she looked like she hadn't gotten enough sleep the night before. Her jacket was shrugged over her olive freckled shoulders, a small carnival logo pin on the collar of it too.

"**I just asked what type of breakfast you want."** Edgar leaned back, dropping the cereal box onto the table and picked up the orange juice and started to pour some into a glass that was randomly beside a plate covered with biscuits. She nodded slowly as she leaned back in the chair only to quickly lean forward as Lydia was seen walking around the chair then. The brunette's eyes were back on the table, placing her hands back to her lap and looked to the side, noticing a few others that were talking and chattering.

She wondered where Samuel was but didn't say anything about it though. He'd be there soon enough at the breakfast table of course; he was the ring-leader now. The tattooed woman picked up the glass of orange juice, starting to sip on it as Edgar smiled, casually going back to sitting down on a chair near by. Rebecca was sure enough to come soon to want to bother her. She didn't really seem to like her all that much but Arlae didn't really care. She had to listen to a particular Mohawk haired guy spill sour opinions into her ears without so much as a excuse me or thought of maybe she didn't really want to hear it instead.

"**Maybe you should get something to eat."** Lydia suggested as she placed the glass back onto the table. Why did she sound like her mother, like Noah now instead of her usual distaste that wasn't shown? Arlae looked around for a moment and back at Lydia, realizing she was speaking to her. Her eye-shadow applied eye-lids drooped again but only slightly. She didn't dislike Lydia, but that didn't mean Lydia liked her back anyway. So she didn't try to be friends with Lydia all that often yet they had their moments of getting along. Someone had to get advice that didn't sound like a scolding or lecture. She shook her head though, looking at the biscuit covered plate in slight disgust as she saw jam and butter being applied to them now.

"**I'm not really hungry."** She leaned back only to lean forward as she felt a hand on her shoulder again. She felt like Mrs. Petrelli was in the room, or more like tent. She couldn't dash off fast enough when that woman was around. Her fingers seemed twitchy as she heard the next comment made at her.

"**You should try to eat something."** Samuel's subtle gentle voice was heard as he walked around towards Lydia, and she seemed to just look at him casually then back at the orange juice. He walked over beside Edgar and picked a biscuit, starting to take a bite of it then looked at Arlae. His expression could have been one of disappointment or expectation, Arlae didn't know what sounded better. His lips were pressed into a disappointed straight line as she picked that instead as his eyes were on her. She could hear the fluttering of her cross-word puzzle book that was now in Caleb's hands, and the Ferris wheel's repetitive humming. She looked at Caleb as if not really knowing what to say then back at the ring-leader. Samuel's gaze went to Lydia and back to Arlae. It made feel like she was on spotlight, expected to say something, anything at all. Yet her throat felt scratchy as she swallowed as if nervous.

"**You should really try to eat; it's not good to deprive yourself of that."** He told her, placing a hand on Edgar's shoulder with his other hand, holding a biscuit in his right hand **"Right, Edgar?"** His loyal friends around him. If that's what they were called now anyway.

Her blue-green hues noticed Edgar seemed tense up slightly at the ring-master's touch, but he casually nodded a moment later **"Yeah. Have a biscuit."** Edgar got up from his chair a moment later, walking out of the breakfast tent. Someone was busy, weren't they? Arlae eyed where Edgar sat but went back to distractingly look at where she had been scratching her thumb nail onto the table. It seemed like a good way to not be bored. At least it just might let her tune out what she wanted to say to them. To tell them it wasn't their concern, but then she'd be called childish because she missed Joseph, a person who had been her father when she didn't have one. Well, she did but she didn't know where he was. Maybe back where she lived before the carnival, with her mom too. Trying to forget, pretend like she wasn't like how Mrs. Petrelli accused her of being, because she knew who was special and who wasn't, just like Samuel said so.

"**I don't want a biscuit."** The young woman sounded childish she knew that. She looked to the side and got up from her chair as she felt a hand on her shoulder again **"I'm gonna go back to my trailer now."** She whispered as she started to leave the tent but stopped as she felt a hand on her wrist, fingers slinking down slightly to hold her own fingers. Arlae looked back and saw Samuel there with that same look of concern and worry then, just like how he had asked her if she was unhappy with him, with the carnival or something like that. Their gazes both different but he wouldn't let her look away from him, his gentle expression.

"**I'm going back to my trailer."** She whispered, pulling her hand quickly away from him. She turned back around and left the tent. Confused and frustrated eyes looked to the sides of her as she walked towards her trailer, looking at the Sullivan brothers' logo that had been put onto different crew-members' trucks and how there was a few that look at her just as much in interest and confusion. She stopped for a moment as she saw that familiar carnival citizen from the breakfast tent. She walked over, interrupting Edgar's chat with someone as he looked at her in question, as if not even noticing her walking on over.

"**Here."** She took the change out of her pocket, handing over to him and he looked at it as if he didn't even know her. Arlae rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand, placing the random silver coins into his hand. As her light brown hair flipped back over her shoulders as she quickly turned back around he just had to say something.

"**What's this for?"** Edgar asked as if not understanding at all even though he probably did

She turned back around with an almost annoyed look **"Give it to Samuel, okay, Edgar? We're not supposed to keep money from our family."** She whispered and started to turn back around

"**But didn't you just see him in the breakfast tent?"** He gestured towards the tent near by then, the coins jingled slightly within his closed hand. She turned back around with an awe expression then shrugged as she started walking towards her trailer again. She could hear thunder crackle again, and knew it'd probably rain soon too.

"**I don't need another reason for him to look at me like I'm another painted lady for him or something either." **The fabric of her jacket shuffled against her shirt as she shrugged once more. Oddly she felt relaxed, even though shoulders bunched up, tensing.

"**Really, Edgar, sometimes I don't think you listen to me at all."** She gave a soft sigh and turned back around, heading for the main part of the carnival. Arlae stepped over a balance beam that had been tossed apparently onto the ground; she glanced back at it then looked forward. She had to squeeze in-between two silver plastic trailers, her fingers feeling the slick coldness but noticing Becky near by made her stop for a moment. Rebecca. Hmm. Earlier, when she hadn't really gotten along with her either. The brunette glanced down as if thinking about something else now, inhaling through her nose as she looked back up instead. She took a step forward and started to head to the side, walking on by a few people. There were few chatting as they swept empty ring pads where some usually were to show off their abilities, at least the ones that didn't seem that extraordinary.

She looked around at the bright lights that didn't shine at the carnival yet. She felt someone pluck at her hair, then harsher. She whipped around only to see that smirking face of another carnival citizen. Another member of her new family. New. That seemed like a years long of a word to say. With a sigh of biting her tongue, she turned back around. Shrugging off the attempt to frustrate her, she walked towards two open flaps of a tent. A bright reflection from a silver plate stung her eyes. She cringed even though hearing the apology of doing that.

"**It's alright."** The woman with the peacock like hair said. She wiped at her eyes, looking at her fingertips and back up at the person still apologizing even though she said it was alright. Arlae sighed, walking through the tent **"Sorry for intruding like this." **She then walked back out another set of flaps, glancing out at the fields from the carnival that was visible as she was on the edge of the boardwalk. A frown went across her lips as if uneasy as she looked at the swaying fields that seemed to taunt her **"Oh, Joseph, what is he doing?"** She didn't know exactly who she was referring to though.


End file.
